If she broke this rule for him so easily, what rule would he ask her to break next? “That’s fine. We’ll practice some other evening.” Time to change the subject. “So besides having no privacy, how do you like being a harvester?” She laughed at her own question, nervous laughter. “I shouldn’t have asked you that. Nobody likes being a harvester for the first few months. After that, you get used to the rigors and it isn’t as hard. You’re willing to stick it out for a few months, aren’t you?”
He stepped toward her. His eyes held the same focus and intensity she’d imagined when she was creating scenarios about them. He even had a smile playing on his lips. “I’ll consider staying for the right motivation. Say, a girl who trusts me enough to share a waltz with me right now.”
“It’s not a matter of trust,” Charity stammered. “It’s the rules. I could get some work gloves.”
He shook his head. “By the time you did, we wouldn’t have any light left.” He picked up the water bottle she’d left on the ground. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll wash off my hands.” He poured water on his palms and rubbed them together.
She fiddled with her shirt’s button. “I don’t know that much about washing off truth serum. Wouldn’t you need some sort of soap?”
“I think water gets most of it.” He winked at her. “But maybe you’ll get away with some half-truths.” He shook his hands to dry them, then wiped them on his jeans. “We’ll test the theory. While we’re dancing, I’ll ask you questions and see if you’re compelled to answer.” He held out his hands to her in invitation.
He was her future husband, and he’d agreed to stay for a few months if she danced with him. She couldn’t ask for more than that. She reached out her hand, and his fingers slid around hers. Even though his hand was cool from the water, it felt warm to her. Electric.
He pulled her closer and put his other hand on her waist. She laid her free hand on his shoulder. It was a dancing position. That was all. But it felt like so much more. It was almost an embrace. It felt like a kiss waiting to happen.
Man, she had to get her mind off of his lips. She couldn’t remember any of the steps. He moved forward, starting the dance. She managed to move her feet without tripping. “Just so you know, I’m bad at waltzing. Don’t expect much.”
He tsked. “There’s the proof I have no truth serum because that’s clearly untrue. I saw you dancing. You’re very graceful.”
“Hmm. One of us is able to lie. But since you’d be the one with the truth serum on your hand first, it wouldn’t affect you.”
He chuckled, and his gaze rested on her eyes. “I’m surprised you’re not more used to compliments. A beautiful woman like you must hear them often enough.”
She immediately misplaced her feet. She’d forgotten what to do with them. Everything about him was too distracting. “Sorry, but the only way I’m going to manage to waltz without stomping on your feet is if I count to three.”
She stared at his shoulder and counted for several measures until she became more used to the feel of his nearness, of his hand holding hers. She couldn’t believe how the touch of his hand made her heart beat wildly and muddled her mind.
The night grew darker. She didn’t care. She was not about to suggest they go back to the bunkhouses.
The song ended and another came on. “I think you’ve got this,” he said. “Try it without counting. I promise we’ll stick with the basic steps until you feel comfortable doing more.”
“Are you sure you want to try more than basic? After all, it’s your feet that may be stomped on.”
“I’ve always been one to live dangerously.”
“Have you? What did you do besides data entry?”
“Growing up, I played football, soccer, baseball—pretty much any contact sport.”
“Baseball is a contact sport?”
“It was the way my friends played it. I broke my arm during my junior year playing sports.”
She’d been right about him being an athlete. He looked upward, thinking. “I’m trying to come up with a really good question I want the truth to. You know, just in case I slipped truth serum on my hand without realizing it. Hmm. Have you ever broken your parents’ rules?”
She snorted. “That question won’t tell you much. Every child has broken their parents’ rules.”
“I meant recently. Have you broken their rules, say in the last month?”
An odd question. “Besides right now? I haven’t had a reason to. The rules are there for a reason. They keep us safe.”
His brows drew together, considering her. “You’re either lying, or you’re the type of child my parents always wanted. It’s a shame they didn’t get you.”
“Were you the rebellious sort?”
“I believe I’m the one with the hypothetical truth serum on my hands, so I don’t have to answer any questions. Just you do, and so far, we haven’t ascertained whether you’re able to lie. I only have a few minutes of truth time left. Let’s talk about your last boyfriend. How did that relationship end?”
How should she answer that? Should she admit she’d never had a boyfriend? “Well,” she said, “I’m convinced you don’t have truth serum on your hand because I can think of all sorts of lies to tell you.”